Guardian Angel
by Kayla James
Summary: Series finale spoilers! After everyone leaves the tunnel under Nottingham Castle, a woman from Guy's past returns to see him saved not only from death but from himself. Guy/OC. M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: I don't own BBC's Robin Hood or any of their characters. Also, be warned there will be major spoilers in this story if you haven't watched to the end of Season 3._

Chapter One

She had to hurry; there wasn't a moment to waste. It was quite possible she was already too late for the man who lay bleeding on the cold hard ground of Nottingham Castle's hidden entrance, and if that were the case she would hold herself accountable until the day she died. He was still breathing, but barely, the pulse point on his neck frighteningly weak. If he survived escaping the castle then there was a good chance he would be strong enough to return from the brink of death.

It would take all her strength to drag him from the spot where he had collapsed and where it was assumed he had died. The others hadn't seen her hiding as they scattered, two sides going in separate directions. She had found the hidden tunnel just as Guy tried to push Robin away from Isabella's dagger. It had taken every ounce of restraint she possessed not to cry out as two swords were mercilessly driven through his body. There was a hope in her mind that perhaps the poison that would claim Robin had not been spent on it's intended target when Isabella cut his throat.

Tears stung her eyes as she pressed herself tightly against a hidden corner, listening to the conversation that followed. There was no way she could save Robin, something she deeply wished she could change. He had been a friend when she had needed one most, and while she wished she could bid him a proper farewell there was no time.

When the Sheriff and Isabella left with their men heading back into the castle, and the one they had called Archer left down the tunnel passing her hiding spot without realizing she was there, the exchange between former enemies caused those silent tears to roll down her cheeks. After years of animosity they were making peace. If she could save them both she would, but there was only the bleak possibility that one would make it through the night.

If her own past hadn't played a part in driving Guy of Gisbourne to look at Marian as his sort of personal savior she might have been jealous of the way he spoke of the other woman. The start of the chain reaction that lead to Marian's death at Guy's hands could easily be traced back to her, and the choices she had made regarding him years earlier. Everything in life was a choice, but sometimes the decisions made by others ultimately brought about the final outcome of the situation.

As Robin ran by she waited only a moment before emerging from her hiding place. Kneeling next to Guy's still form she placed her hand on the pulse point as she leaned in to see if he was indeed still breathing. He was completely unconscious, which would probably be a good thing. The trip would not be easy and would probably be quite painful due to the severity of his wounds. At least they wouldn't have terribly far to go before she could give him a dry safe place to rest.

"You and I have a bit of unfinished business I'm afraid," she whispered, moving behind him and preparing herself for the task of dragging his larger form from the tunnel. "So, you'll have to hold on a bit longer for me."

She moved as quickly as she could, trying not to worry that he didn't even react to any discomfort the action should have brought him. On the battlefield every soldier she had helped had at least groaned once when moved. He was hurt badly and, given the manner of the exchange with Robin, he no longer had the will to continue on. He wanted to be free from the living hell that was life, but she couldn't allow him that yet. It was a frightening combination of circumstances in her mind.

As the opening to the tunnel drew near she felt a surge of adrenaline take over and she was able to move them both a little faster towards their freedom. She had never been so thankful to feel the late afternoon sun on her back as when she stepped out onto the grass outside the tunnel. At that moment though a blast shook the ground and she was thrown backwards with Guy.

Her head crashed against the ground and it was only then that she let go of Guy, who grunted slightly, to her relief, as he tumbled back to the ground again. She gasped for a moment, trying to regain her breath as she lay there next to him. Whatever had happened within the castle walls it had been on an extremely large scale. Aside from the throbbing in her head she was thankfully unhurt. It wouldn't do any good for her to be injured now, it would only mean she would fail the man whose life was in her hands.

Looking up in confusion she could see a large smoke cloud rising over the castle. Someone had blown up the castle, and she was fairly certain this would be the final act Robin would be remembered for in the years that would follow. That didn't matter though now, and she quickly scrambled to her feet, once again checking for Guy's pulse. It was still there, still weak.

"I'll be back in a moment," she told him. "Don't you dare die on me while I'm gone."

It was a whispered command that would have left no room for argument had he been aware of her presence. Rising she ran off to one side towards the brush. A few feet past the boundary a horse munched lazily on underbrush. The brown mare neighed slightly at the sight of her, and she hushed it as she took the reigns and led it back to where Guy lay deathly still.

The mare had been trained to assist her in transporting the wounded, and lay next to Guy's form to make it easier to position him over her back. It was still a bit of a precarious way of getting him to safety, but it would have to do for now. She couldn't drag him the remaining distance to her little camp where she could tend to him and hopefully bring him back from the brink.

She led the horse slowly, taking care that Guy wouldn't slip from her back. Using the landmark of the roadside cave, she turned left off the path going into the woods. No one would believe him to be alive, and no one knew she had returned. They would be quite safe even this short distance from the castle. She had purposely decided to stay just a short trip from the road so she might be aware of all who came and went.

Dragging his still seemingly lifeless body into the tent, she placed him on the sleeping mat she had been using. Lighting a fire under a cauldron of water, she went to work removing his shirt so she might actually get a good look at the wound. The fact that he was still alive told her that the swords had some how managed to miss his lungs and heart. There would still be a considerable amount of damage, but he was strong and hopefully he would fight to return with her assistance.

Both cuts had been clean, no twisting or jagged cuts much to her relief. That would at least make the repair process a bit simpler. Grabbing her pack she set to work. In the years she had been gone from England she had learned a few new tricks in the healing arts, and they would certainly serve her well now. The Holy Land may have been her own personal Hell, but it had also taught her a great deal more then she would have ever hoped to learn in England.

It was dark when she finally finished, sitting back and wiping the sweat from her brow. He had barely flinched through the cleaning and stitching process, and to look at him now one might think they were staring at a corpse. There was, however, the slightest rise and fall of his chest, which she watched intently as his lungs caused the bandages to expand ever so slightly. After cleaning her hands and burning the dirty rags that had been used, she seated herself closer to his head, brushing his hair back from his face with her fingers.

He looked so at peace for once. It had been so many years since she had last seen him looking like this, so quiet and without care. The somber expression was gone, as were the creases in his brow and around his eyes. He looked like the boy she remembered from a simpler time, not the man who had taken his place. This was not the man who had given himself over to the evil plots of a dirty minded Sheriff. She could see the man she had missed terribly now when he was in this quiet state.

"You will probably hate me even more for saving you," she said softly, taking his hand in her own. "I couldn't just leave you to die, not with all that was left unsaid. You don't owe me anything, not even a single word of explanation, but I owe you. I brought you here to this moment. I can't make things completely right again, but I want to try. I can't do that though if you don't fight and hang on. Don't leave this world yet, Guy. You're wrong in thinking there's nothing left for you here."

When he awoke, not if he awoke, he would be completely irate with her for dragging him out the castle. She could nearly hear his voice in her mind and to have that come to pass would be like sweet music to her ears. Holding his hand in her laps, she prepared herself for the long night ahead. The road to recovery, both physical and emotional, would not be an easy one. All she could do was wait and watch over him, the lost guardian angel return home.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you so much to those who reviewed. I do truly appreciate.

Chapter Two

She awoke with a start, labored breathing pulling her from the peaceful slumber that had found her despite being determined to stay awake. Looking around the tent in the direction of the breathing, she brushed her strawberry-blond hair from her face. Guy had slept peacefully for hours, unaware that she was there occasionally applying more healing ointments to try to counteract any poison that might be in his system and prevent infection. The sun was starting to slowly light the sky outside her tent, making it easier to see his face across the small tent.

His features were contorted with pain and discomfort, his brow covered with sweat. She felt her own breath catch in her throat as she crossed the short distance to where he lay. Unwrapping the bandage she bit her lip at the sight of the wound on his chest. It was an angry red color, and clearly infection had taken hold of him. Reaching out she placed a hand against the skin of his now creased brow, feeling the heat there for a moment.

Looking at him, she would think him merely trapped in the grips of a nightmare if she didn't look down to the extensive damage to his body. Fevers had been known to bring on horrific visions while one slept and she wondered what it was he was seeing in his mind. It was clear he was no longer at peace, physically or emotionally, and she could do little to change that at the moment. Only time could bring a return of physical peace, then she could try to heal the emotional wounds with would run much deeper.

As her fingers traveled from his brow to his cheek his eyes suddenly shot open, his hand coming up to catch her wrist. His sharp reflexes, she assumed caused the reaction as she noticed that his eyes didn't truly seem to focus on her but around the space she filled. His grip was surprisingly firm, speaking volumes of his physical strength. That at least was a good sign in her mind, if he was able to react in such a way he might still be able to fight the infection.

"Guy," she said, trying to sooth him, "it's alright...You're safe."

At the sound of her voice, his eyes seemed to finally find hers, blue searching desperately for her green. For a long moment he was frozen, his eyes remaining fixed with her own. There was recognition in his, and for that she was relieved. In his weakened state it seemed the old anger was forgotten, and after a long moment his hold on her loosened.

Sliding her hand into his, she lowered it to her lap as she kept her eyes fixed on his. Now there was confusion, followed by a slight narrowing most likely caused by the pain he was in or perhaps the memory of how everything had ended between them. Reaching out with her free hand she grabber a clean rag, dipping it in the now cold water of the cauldron and wringing it out. Gently she used the cool cloth to wipe his brow, hoping it would be soothing against the excessive body heat.

"K...Krista?" he asked, his voice horse and soft.

She felt strangely relieved that he recognized her and hadn't called out the name she had expected to hear from his lips. Even now his voice sent a shiver down her spine, the likes of which she hadn't felt in years. Biting her lip, she gave a slight nod to the affirmative as she continued to try to cool his burning skin.

"It's me," she said softly. "Don't try to talk too much, just rest. There will be plenty of time for talk later."

"I never imagined you would be waiting for me," he told her, his eyes glazing over a bit again. "Even if I managed to redeem myself enough for Heaven, I never dared dream you would want to be here to greet me."

The fever was causing a delusion, and she blinked back the tears that filled her eyes for his words spoke volumes. He had always assumed she would die in the Holy Land, and, given the circumstances between them, that she would never want anything to do with him ever again. She shook her head slightly at the unfairness that was life. All the time wasted on anger and hurt feelings...this one simple statement of his said all that she needed to know, she had been right to return home.

Releasing his hand for a moment she reached out for a nearby container of drinking water, but he grabbed her wrist again as panic filled his eyes. If she could go back and do it all again, she would do anything to prevent them from coming to this moment. She would give anything to not have to see the anguish in his eyes or know that he could easily still slip from this world. Being a practical sort though she knew better then to dwell on the impossible.

"It's alright," she soothed. "You need to try to drink a little water. I'm not leaving, I promise you."

It seemed to satisfy his fear as he loosened his grip on her wrist so she could retrieve the water. Opening the container she smoothed his hair back from his face as she placed on hand under his head. Drinking would be slightly tricky but she hoped the fact that he was slightly delirious would help make this easier.

"Let me do the work, alright," she gently commanded, lifting his head slightly and putting the container to his lips. "The last thing I need is you destroying my handiwork because you think you can do it all yourself."

She allowed him a small amount, pulling it away despite his protests when she felt he had enough. She hushed his complaints, gently lowering his head again. Closing the container again, she set it to the side before once again dipping the rag in cool water for his head. Eventually he would lose consciousness again, and she could tend to his wounds without having to cause him unnecessary suffering.

"You were always my angel," he said, causing her to smirk slightly. If he were in his right mind he wouldn't be saying such things, and she didn't fool herself into thinking other wise.

"I will remind you of that when your fever breaks," she told him, trying to keep her voice light. "I doubt the word angel will be the first one that comes to your mind."

He looked at her in complete confusion for a moment and she gave him a gentle smile as she took hold of his hand again. He honestly believed they had both perished, and for now she would stop trying to allude to the fact that he was very much still alive. There was no reason to upset his peaceful state of mind just yet...there would be plenty of time for coming to terms with reality later.

"You should try to sleep," she said, lifting his hand from her lap and brushing her lips against the skin on the back. "You need your strength...I won't leave, I promise."

His fingers intertwined with hers as she lowered his hand back to her lap. He seemed to accept her promise, as his eyes slowly left hers. They closed again and it was only a moment before his breathing evened out telling her he had once again slipped into the unconscious world. Slowly she released his hand, reaching for the bottle containing an ointment to help fight the infection.

As she worked to spread it over his wounds her mind wandered slightly. When he spoke to her it was like the past six years had not happened, and in some ways she desperately wished that were the case. The clearest view of an event always seemed to be when one thought back over what had occurred, and she could clearly state everything she would do differently were she given the chance.

_"So you're leaving then," Guy said, standing in the doorway of her chambers. "Just like that...The King calls and you put your entire life on hold to follow."_

_Krista looked up from the bag where she had been packing her close, sighing slightly as she answered, "You know I have to go, Guy. I have a duty to my King and my country."_

_"You have duty to me," he told her, his voice tense and sharp. His eyes bore into hers and the pain he was feeling was quite evident._

_Her hands fell away from her clothes as she simply stared at him for a moment, at a loss for words. It had always been understood that her duties to King Richard would always come first and she tried not show that she felt as if someone had just knocked the wind from her lungs. They had been over this time and time again, and she felt weary at repeating the conversation, especially now._

_"Guy," she said softly, her eyes fixed on his, "we have talked about this so many times...he's the only family I have left. I can not abandon him now."_

_He laughed in a way she was not accustomed to hearing. It was a dark, sadistic sort of sound from deep in his chest and it frightened her to her very core. There had always been a darkness within him, but until now he had kept it at bay._

_"If we were married already, I would be your family as well," he answered._

_"Yes, but we're not now are we? You're too worried you're inadequate in some way since your family lost their lands. We're not because pride won't let you simply marry me!" she snapped, regretting it nearly the instant the words left her lips. "I'm sorry.... I shouldn't have..."_

_He held up a hand for her to stop and for once she complied. She had gone to far this time, and she knew it. He looked away from her, his eyes landing on the frame of the doorway. The conversation was as good as over, and the damage was done. She knew that look; it was a look that meant he was finished with the fight. Guy was giving up and the thought caused tears to fill her eyes, forfeit was not usually a part of his vocabulary._

_"May you be safe in your travels, Krista," he said slowly, before turning and leaving the room._

_She watched the space where he had stood for some time, wondering if she should go after him. Somehow she doubted it would do any good, he seemed to have made up his mind. If she left their engagement was over and he was not willing to negotiate this point. If she stayed they would continue on as they had, betrothed but never seeming to get any closer to taking their vows. He had sworn there would not be a Lady Gisbourne until he once again had lands to claim as his own._

That had been the last time she had laid eyes on him before leaving to follow her cousin and king. It was the final memory of him that she had carried until the day before, as she stood helpless to stop the pain that tore through his body. At least today she could say she saw him look at her the way he did long ago and that was an image she would carry with her always.

Carefully re-applying the bandages around his torso part of her was relieved he didn't stir again. Perhaps a moment ago in his delusions would be the only time she would see an inkling of the feelings behind the carefully erected facade. She wanted to hold on to that for as long as she could, for the demons within him would return soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The fever lingered for nearly three days more, and in that time Krista rarely left the silent watch she kept over Guy, hardly even taking a moment for sleep. He did not wake again during that time, something that both relieved and worried her as sat next to him in the tent. It was a delicate sort of balance, and as the sun rose on their fourth day she wondered if his eyes would ever open again. It was true the longer his body allowed him to rest the quicker he would truly heal, but he also stood a smaller chance of the fever breaking the more time passed. She would even glad bear his anger should it mean she would get to see his blue eyes again.

Kneeling next to him, her hand came to rest against his brow as it had so many times in the last few days, and she was surprised to find his skin considerably cooler beneath her own. To be sure her hand traveled down to his cheek, and as it did so his eyes shot open finding hers immediately this time. With the delirium now long gone, after the initial moment of recognition his eyes narrowed with an emotion she knew all to well from him, anger.

"Welcome back," she said softly, her hand falling away from his face. As he watched her she felt the pit of her stomach twist into knots at knowing this conversation would set the tone for the next several days and possibly weeks. Watching him for any sort of response, she asked "Would you like some water?"

"No," he said coolly. "I'll have nothing else from you."

She wasn't entirely surprised by the malice in his voice. It would take a great deal of time and patience to regain his trust, and she knew there was a good chance that would not be a possibility. She didn't except him to take her back, but she had to give him peace in the world of the living. Something deep inside her would not simply allow him to slip away without knowing real happiness.

"Well...your stunning disposition has returned," she quipped. "I will take that as a very good sign."

He began to struggle to sit, and she quickly placed her hands on his shoulders to hold him down. She should have expected this, but for the moment she was simply relieved to see him awake. Regardless of how the remainder of the day went he was on the mend and that was all that truly mattered to her in that moment.

"You will pull your stitches apart if you don't stop," she said, using most of her strength to keep him down. "I will not see you waste four days of work on my part to keep you alive."

"You should have left me to die," he snapped at her, although he gave up the physical struggle. "I did not ask you to come back and save me."

"Yet, I am here and I am trying to anyway," she answered, finally able reach out and fetch the container of drinking water. As she opened it she added, "There is very little you can do to change that, so perhaps it might be wise if you had a few sips of water and accepted the fact that you are still among the living."

She noted the slight rolling of his eyes, but he didn't venture another complaint as she assisted him in drinking the water. She tried not to smirk at the thought that she still had a little sway over him, even now. Certainly when he had his full strength back it would take a bit more work.

"Drink this slowly or you will make yourself ill," she told him, helping him to raise his head slightly after he took the water.

He complied, taking a few slow slips of water before giving the container back to her. Closing it and setting it aside she took a moment to collect her thoughts before trying to speak to him again. The years had changed them both. She had seen horrors in the Holy Land that would haunt her until the day she died, and he had been led down a path of corruption driven by his need to restore his family's position, something he would eventually have to come to terms with. They both had their nightmares, which only time could heal.

"What are you doing back in Nottingham?" he asked, drawing her from her thoughts. "Shouldn't you be with King Richard?"

She shook her head slightly, giving a slight sigh before answering, "The Crusade is ending and my cousin will be returning home soon to reclaim his thrown. I was no longer needed at his side."

She was needed in Nottingham, and she was beginning to think she had been truly needed there from the moment she left. Yet, she had done some good for the soldiers in the Holy Land and she owed her cousin everything. When her parents passed he had taken her in and allowed her to learn from the palace healers, when Prince John had encouraged him to simply send her to the convent. It was because of that fact that when she thought of family the other man never crossed her mind. She had come to terms long ago with the fact that he would never see her as more of a nuisance.

"You should have stayed with the King," he retorted, his eyes fixed squarely on her own. The statement was mean to hurt her, she knew that, and also understood the most difficult part of her task would be remaining calm no matter what he said to her throughout the next days.

"I will not apologize for saving you," Krista told him, keeping her voice steady, her eyes not wavering from his intense gaze. "You may think that there is no one left to care if you live or die, but you are very wrong." Her words echoed other conversations they had engaged in over the years, even the very first.

_It was another day of training, and the young lords of Nottingham had gathered in the castle's courtyard to practice their skill with a sword. The King sat on the other side with the Sheriff, observing the men who were trading blows. It was Krista's understanding the sheriff's daughter, Marian who had seated herself to Krista's right, was currently being courted by Robin of Locksley who was in attendance among the men. Marian fidgeted in her seat for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes, drawing Krista's attention way from the practice._

_"You seem anxious today," she said, drawing Marian's gaze. "Is everything alright?"_

_The younger woman seemed to pause for a moment, considering her response before saying, "I just do not understand why they insist on making us sit here and watch. It seems because we are women rarely are we seen as being capable of being capable of much of anything."_

_Krista nodded slightly in understanding. There were so many times she was thankful for her cousin's indulgence of her natural inclination towards healing. It gave her some purpose aside from being the cousin of the king and perhaps someday a wife and mother. She had a skill, something she had learned on her own and had not been forced upon her. Most other women were not so lucky. There were times though she thought it also gave her little hope of starting a family of her own. So many men frowned upon having learned a skill._

_As hiss of pain drew her attention as well as Marian's and the two women focused on Robin and the man who had been fighting. It seemed he duel between Robin and his opponent has taken a more heated turn. Robin was laughing while the other man retrieved the sword that had been dropped, the tare in the sleeve of his black shirt revealing the wound that had caused him to drop the weapon._

_"That, Gisbourne," Robin said, his tone completely self assured, "was first blood and you have lost."_

_She watched the other man walk away without another word to Robin as Marian rushed over to her intended. The way they looked at each other as they spoke showed their mutual love, something Krista wished one day to experience. With little else to do at that moment, she rose from her seat and followed Robin's opponent into the castle. Even a minor wound could cause a serious infection if not treated. Once he was out of sight of the others he slowed a bit, unaware of her presence behind him._

_"Excuse me, sir," she called, causing him to flinch slightly in surprise and turn to look at him. His blue eyes met hers instantly, causing her to freeze for a moment, breath catching in her throat. The gaze was intense, his eyes searching hers almost trying to read her completely as they stood there staring at each other in the passage way._

_"Yes, what is it?" he asked impatiently. "I haven't got all day."_

_She shook herself from her momentary stupor, pulling her gaze from his as she did so. She wondered if he was aware of the affect his gaze had on her, but she didn't dwell on that fact too long. Clearly he was not a man of patience, and the last thing she wished was to irritate anyone._

_"I could not help noticing you were injured...I am a healer, I thought perhaps I could take a quick look," she said, suddenly feeling rather like a shy child._

_"It's a scratch, that will not be necessary," he told her, turning and starting down the hall again._

_"Even a scratch can be deadly if left untreated," she said, following him. "Please, sir, it will only take a moment."_

_"You should go back to the others, my lady," he answered coolly, not turning to face her as he continued on down the hall._

_"Sir, I can not simply turn a blind eye," she replied, trying to sound firm in her conviction._

_"Locksley and his friends will be missing you," he countered, earning a bit of an exasperated sigh from Krista's lips._

_"Sir, you may find this difficult to believe, but I do actually care if you live or die," she told him, the volume of her voice rising a bit at his stubbornness._

_He stopped suddenly turning to face her again. Krista had been following him too closely and ran into his chest before she could bring herself to a halt. Stepping back, she looked up a bit sheepishly to find him smirking as he looked down at her, his blue eyes losing a bit of their harsh, cold edge._

_"If I refuse I am guessing that you will only keep following me all the way to my chambers telling me the reasons why I should let you fuss over a scratch," he said, and Krista felt her cheeks color a bit._

_"I...Yes, you're right I would," she answered softly, giving him a small smile._

_He gave a slight nod, and she knew she had won the battle. They began to walk again, and she had to walk a bit faster then she was used to keep up with his longer stride. At least he was giving in to her request to make sure the wound was properly tended to, which meant he be convinced of common sense._

_"What is your name?" he asked as they walked, and their eyes met in a sideways glance._

_"Krista," she answered, noticing the curious look he gave her. "And you, sir?"_

_"I am Guy of Gisbourne," he answered. "I'm curious, my lady, why it is the King's cousin does not use a formal introduction?"_

_"I thought you did not know my name, Sir Guy," Krista said, raising an eyebrow slightly._

_"I didn't," Guy told her. "However, it's common knowledge that the King is traveling with his cousin who is a healer, and I saw you in his company this morning. It was a logical assumption."_

Somehow they had managed to fall into easy conversation after that, a tentative friendship forming that day. It did not take long for friendship to develop into something infinitely dearer, something Krista missed more then she cared admit in that moment. It was difficult as she sat there next to him not to replay every moment of their relationship and wondered if there were other things she could have done differently where Guy was concerned.

"Is that supposed to cause me to forget everything that has happened?" he asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

"No," she answered softly. "Guy...I do not know if anything I say or do will ever be enough, but I am sorry I..."

"I do not want your apologies, Krista," he snapped, causing her to flinch away from him, her head bowed slightly. "I was ready to die and be at peace. I was ready to be done with this life that has seen me make mistake after mistake. This was supposed to be the end...no more nightmares, no more missteps. You were not supposed to save..."

His voice had grown increasingly louder as he spoke, but his words were suddenly cut off by a grimace of pain that brought Krista's eyes back to his. It was clear to her as she took in his features that were once again pale, that this was not the time for conversation. He needed his strength to heal and arguing could wait. She made no move to touch him though, as she waited until it seemed the pain had receded a bit.

"There will be time for this conversation to continue later," she assured him, trying to tell him to cease his fighting. "I will get something to help with the discomfort, but you need to rest. I will be just outside if you need me."

Before he could say another word she stood and left the tent. A few feet away she had set up a small space for cooking and quickly set to work on the fire, trying to push the conversation that had just occurred from her mind. She had been expecting there to be anger behind his words, she had expected the looks of pure disdain. However, she had not thought something so expected would rip open the old pain she had felt whenever she thought of him. She had not expected the aching in her chest to return so quickly.

Busying herself with the fire and preparing breakfast as well as an herbal tea for the pain she kept her distance from him for a time. In focusing on the tasks before her she was able to once again burry the feelings before the unshed tears could sting at her eyes. It was clear to her the less interaction she had with him until he was truly strong enough would be wise. She would not see him grow weak again now because she too was stubborn and could not leave well enough alone.

He seemed to accept the fact that he would be stuck in the tent for a while longer as she did not hear him try to get up again. So, she could ignore what had just occurred, pushing down the feelings once again. As the sun continued to rise in the sky she knew she would spend the day finding excuses to avoid him. It seemed the less interaction the better for now.


End file.
